


Fantasy and Reality

by AiselnePN



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Complete, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masochism, Mild Alcohol Reference, One-Shot, Romance, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 21:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6059353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiselnePN/pseuds/AiselnePN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two sides to every story, and Grell and Sebastian have very conflicting impressions about what happened between them last night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fantasy and Reality

**Author's Note:**

> The story you are about to read is the uncensored version of my fic, "Fantasy and Reality." If you would like to read the censored version, please visit "Aiselne Phoenix Nocturnus" at FanFiction.Net. Links available on my AO3profile.

“I abhor liars, Grell,” Sebastian spoke firmly, slamming the door to his room before his addressee could prance away. Like the demon he was, the butler cast a faint but still noticeable shadow over his shorter counterpart. “And I assure you my master shares those sentiments. So you would be well advised not to barge into his living quarters sputtering such erroneous vulgarities.” Not that sputtering erroneous vulgarities was anything out of character for Grell Sutcliff…but Ciel did not need be subjected to them in the wee hours of the morning. Nobody did for that matter.

Of course, trying to censor Grell was as easy as teaching Ciel how to dance—the odds were against Sebastian from the outset. He realized such upon noticing he had sandwiched Grell between the shut door and himself. Their heat was suffocating.

But to Sebastian’s surprise, any of the redhead’s lewd comments were overridden by Grell’s need to defend himself. After a melodramatic sigh the reaper pouted in protest. “I am not a liar! You know as well as I do that everything I’ve ever said about us is true, Sebas-chan.”

“‘Everything,’ including how I am your star-crossed lover for whom you will miraculously bear children?” The gross incredulity in Sebastian’s voice more than easily shuddered Grell deeper into the door’s wood, momentarily shutting up the blushing reaper. Doing his best not to retch, the exasperated Sebastian ran a hand through his raven bangs. “If what you say is true then hell obviously froze over during my absence.”

“Don’t be cheeky,” snarled Grell, not appreciating the butler’s callous assumptions of something so precious to him. Although, was it necessarily Sebastian’s fault for not taking Grell so seriously? Even the shinigami was well aware of how outrageous he could appear, but what others considered “outrageous” Grell considered “passionate.” He was not afraid of who he was and what he wanted—on the contrary, Grell was filled with the utmost pride! Which explained Grell’s openness about…well, everything.

Which was also why the reaper harboured no qualms about telling a kid—or gloat to, rather—especially one who was hardly the purest of children. Grell could barely wait to proclaim to the rooftops how he finally won Sebastian Michaelis’ heart. And just imagine the look on high and mighty Ciel Phantomhive’s face when he learned of what his faithful manservant did with former Jack the Ripper late last night. In Ciel’s mansion, no less! Grell had half a mind to break into a victory dance whilst the brat ate his heart out.

It all elicited the proudest yet naughtiest smile along Grell’s lips. “Besides, my darling, don’t you think your little master deserves to know the truth about us~?”

Sebastian was two seconds away from rolling his eyes. “You mean the truth about how you stole away into my bedroom uninvited, half-cut and half-dressed, and attempted to seduce me like some dirty whore?”

Grell was one second away from slapping the bastard. “Who’s the liar?!” he challenged, using the door and his high heels to straighten upward and come within inches of Sebastian’s nose. Not even the handsomest of men could come between Grell and his arrogance. “I was only trying to pleasantly surprise you and this is the thanks I get?”

“Curb your perversity, Grell. That would surprise me.”

“Funny, I don’t recall you asking me to curb anything last niiight~” smartly retorted the reaper, pulling away from the door to press into Sebastian’s solid frame. The duo had long since dressed, but it only being a few hours later the territory was still familiar to Grell’s touch. Daintily his fingers traversed the butler’s lapel as though the suit was not even there. Fresh in Grell’s memory were the demon’s sweat-soaked chest and hardened nipples, amongst the rest of Sebastian’s lusciousness. That devil was forbidden fruit and gods knew Grell savoured every drop.

Nor was the reaper daft enough to think his desire was entirely one-sided. If Grell learned anything in the past few hours it was that Sebas-chan’s mouth was less inclined to bitch when it had better things to do. Greedily he yanked Sebastian’s collar, kissed deep and plundered deeper with his tongue, relishing the effects it had on both reaper and demon’s pressed bodies. The corners of Grell’s mouth curled when Sebastian stubbornly evicted him, shoving the redhead back into the door with no small amount of force.

Grell appreciated the coppery taste of blood, especially when the blood belonged to prey. He swallowed whilst admiring the fluid trickling down the side of Sebastian’s mouth, punishment for interrupting a girl who happened to possess serrated teeth. Oh well. Sebas-chan’s tongue would heal. As would his ego. Eventually.

The wound gone a moment later, Sebastian’s hands firmly pinned Grell’s shoulders against the door, maintaining ample breathing room. Give Grell an inch and he would take Sebastian for everything he had, all the while smiling madly. Hell, Sebastian could tell the bloody masochist was enjoying the simple pleasures of being manhandled. “Twisted” was not strong enough an adjective to describe Grell Sutcliff’s idea of romance. Never mind of reality.

“I shudder to imagine what exactly it was you drank last night that would induce such vile hallucinations about you and I, Grell,” Sebastian sighed almost tiredly. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t place too great a blame on the drink—”

“Oh don’t even try that, Sebas-chan!” hotly retorted Grell, reading the butler’s intentions. “Are you reeeally going to pretend our lovemaking was all just some wild, drunken delusion of mine?”

“It would not be a far stretch from your sober delusions.”

“Rubbish!” The shinigami almost laughed at Sebastian’s own ridiculousness. “Why, surely you’re not scared, Sebas-chan?” he teased, narrowing his green eyes both suspiciously and flirtatiously. “Worried what your master might say, eh? Worried what other demons might saaay? Perish the thought you lose both your butlerhood and demonhood in one fell shag.”

The devil bared the tips of his fangs enough for Grell to get the point. “That is not the issue here.”

Grell pursed his lips into a knowing smile. “Nfu. You’re right; it’s not. The real issue is why there’s a beautiful woman in your bedroom and you’re doing absolutely nothing about it now. I’m starting to feel unloved.” He wanted to move in closer to Sebastian again but the obtuse demon forbade it. No matter. Grell happily moved to Plan B: his arms still pinned but other limbs free, the reaper’s leg flexed enough to gently nuzzle his knee against Sebastian’s crotch. “Your butlerhood and demonhood may be smarting but your manhood tells me it’s ready for round two~”

Sebastian shoved Grell away from him altogether, forcing the shinigami to stumble backwards towards the open window whence he came hours ago. But the crisp, early morning breeze did little to cool the pervert’s engines. “Hehe. You cannot fool a seasoned actress, love. These memories are too vivid not to be real.” Just thinking about them drove Grell to close his eyes and wrap arms around himself, imagining still being in Sebastian’s strong, manly embrace.

Teasing aside, “You needn’t be embarrassed, either,” smiled Grell, opening his eyes to cast a blushing yet blissful gaze upon his beloved. So what if their relationship disgusted Ciel or the entire supernatural realm? “There’s nothing wrong with making love to your lady. And anyone who says otherwise will be on the receiving end of my death scythe.”

Too bad for Grell, Sebastian was unafraid to burst the redhead’s euphoric bubble. “Allow me to correct: you are no ‘lady,’ Grell, and I certainly did not ‘make love’ to you. And if you so much as whisper such depravity again I will ensure you are on the receiving end of your death scythe. Shall I refresh your memory of the last time?”

Said question was unnecessary for the once-hospitalized reaper. Worse yet, why in hell was Sebastian being so obstinate?! Only briefly did Grell ponder the remote possibility that he had in fact imagined everything. Drunkenness was not as disorientating to paranormals as it was to humans, but even a death god could get pissed if he consumed enough. Grell was not a heavy drinker by any stretch of the imagination, but he could hold his own, too. Just how much did he drink last night? He felt no signs of a hangover.

So many questions were making the moment more awkward and less amorous. When in doubt, Grell preferred to take action. There was one rather obvious solution to his and Sebastian’s stalemate…and as Grell stalked forward his quarry read it across the reaper’s licked lips.

After slipping off his black gloves, Grell’s fingers unlaced the pinstriped ribbon around his collar, the three accessories carelessly fluttering to the carpet. An’s red jacket was soon to follow. For Sebastian that was more than enough undressing on Grell’s behalf, but they both knew this was far from over.

“Nfu. Perhaps I should refresh both our memories, eh Sebas-chan?” Not that Grell was expecting, or waiting for, permission. From underneath his faux eyelashes the shinigami’s eyes reflected nothing but desire for the man he approached. But more than lust, Grell needed to know the truth—to know his man was his. That his beautiful lovemaking with Sebastian had not been just a wasted hallucination. That his feelings were requited after all. That Grell was not just another desperate girl swooning over some sultry bad boy. That he finally had a chance at true love.

The moment he came within reach Grell lunged, wrapped arms around Sebastian’s neck and forced their mouths back together. But the shinigami was not playing this time; his kisses were too impassioned, his hands too busy undoing the butler’s suit, and his groin throbbing far too vehemently. Sebastian tried to escape again, but Grell only allocated a moment for both of them to part saliva-slicked lips and gasp oxygen.

Their heated breaths mingled together. For Grell, kissing a demon was akin to kissing a hellacious inferno, and he immediately wanted to experience that explosion elsewhere across his vibrating body. Who cared whether or not this was his first time fornicating with Sebastian, his second time, or the thousandth time? There was only one thing that mattered to Grell now.

One of his traveling hands discovered the final button of Sebastian’s trousers, then slipped inside to grasp the butler’s growing erection. “Make love to me, Sebas-chan.”

But Sebastian clasped Grell’s hand, and none too appropriately answered: “Don’t be cocky.”

The shinigami’s wrist nearly snapped during the split-second twisting of his arm behind his back. Too soon was Grell spun around and slammed front-first against the earlier door, its wood frigid against his flushed cheek. Sebastian was not playing this time, either. Predator and prey reversed roles, and when Grell snuck a peek from the corner of his askew glasses his body erupted in shivers unlike those from before.

Sebastian made damned certain Grell no longer had any leeway whatsoever. He interpreted the redhead’s quiet whimpers as a sign that possession of the upper hand was nonnegotiable. Perhaps maybe—finally—Sebastian could get his message through the reaper’s thick skull! Just to be sure, Sebastian dug his elbow ever so slightly into the small of Grell’s back. Indeed, the mewling numbskull got the message.

“You’re as deluded as ever, Grell, if you think I would ever ‘make love’ to the likes of you,” the demon growled mockingly, coldly, ignoring all levels of pain he was currently inflicting upon the lovesick redhead. “Demons know nothing of love, or making it for that matter.”

Grell wanted to argue, and a smaller part of him wanted to cry out for reasons too embarrassing to admit. But only two sounds came from his mouth: the first of pain when Sebastian pressed him deeper against the door’s hard surface—the second of shock when it came time for the butler’s own knee to goad, spreading Grell’s legs apart.

The reaper’s eyes widened further upon realizing his own slacks had been compromised. But as soon as Sebastian’s free hand finished with the front buttons did it retreat to the back, snaking inside Grell’s waistband towards the tailbone. Silk-thin nickers offered zero protection with one finger just shy of two buttocks, driving Grell to involuntarily buck.

Almost amused, the devil brought his curled lips to Grell’s red-hot cheek, Sebastian’s breath smoldering. “Demons do, however, take immense pride in the ravishment of their quarries, be it for souls or lust.”

His words were the password to opening the gates of Grell’s memory. This being ravishment, not romance, the once-tipsy shinigami recalled Sebastian speaking similarity last night…right before he did exactly what he was currently doing to the restrained reaper. The only considerable difference between then and now was their first time took place on the softer, horizontal turf of Sebastian’s bed.

That, and it was considerably easier to quiet Grell’s vocalism with a pillow, but without one handy Sebastian improvised. In one swift manoeuvre his other hand snipped off one of the smaller man’s sleeve garters, unceremoniously stuffing the leather strap into Grell’s panting, watering mouth. The ginger would need a pacifier to stay quiet…and to keep himself from biting off his tongue once Sebastian tore down their lower attire and took the reaper dry.

Grell’s rosy recollections were overridden with hard pain and harder thrusts. Happening so soon after their first copulation Grell was already plenty sore, regardless of supernatural healing, and being so embarrassingly tight to begin with did not help his situation. The reaper was no virgin, but as he strained to accommodate Sebastian’s massive virility it dawned on Grell how infrequently he actually took this position.

The butler always spoke the truth; nobody in his or her right mind would consider such crude fucking to be “making love.” Not that Grell Sutcliff was ever in his right mind to begin with. The reaper would only be a liar if he claimed to not be enjoying himself.

Sebastian was rather enjoying himself as well, though for reasons much different from Grell’s perversity. It was entertaining to watch the impaled redhead struggle with only one hand, torn between clawing the door for leverage whilst desperately needing to alleviate his neglected, weeping cock. For such a self-proclaimed lady Grell was plenty a man when overcome by instinct. Briefly did Sebastian wonder if such masculinity ashamed Grell, but who was the butler to question when he himself was buried to the balls inside a shinigami who ordinarily revolted him? Shame never crossed their minds when both men were guilty of intoxication by instinct.

After the fact Sebastian would convince himself that such was the only logical explanation, or excuse, for why he took Grell…never mind touch Grell. His elegant, dexterous hands finally released the reaper’s other arm, giving the digits freedom to roam around the front of Grell’s vest. But instead of exploring north, west, or east, Sebastian’s hands promptly traveled south to claim his prize.

Grell’s glistening cheeks burned brightest. Love or lust, for the reaper and demon to come together in perfect tandem would be something indescribably beautiful to Grell. Just the touch of Sebastian’s silken fingers along the redhead’s length made Grell so nearly spill out into his darling’s hands. It would be one perfect moment between two lovers.

Taking a chance Grell looked over his shoulder, reaching back around the butler’s neck to draw Sebastian into another heated kiss. They knew the other neared release. The butler’s sweaty black hair framed his chiseled face, crimson eyes blazing underneath full eyelashes, lips and mouth delicious enough to eternally crave. But deeper were the needs Grell felt in every voracious exertion—how his partner needed this more than the other. Clearly this was a position Sebastian did not engage often, either. Just when was the last time he indulged in base desires? Had Sebastian ever been loved, physically or figuratively?

As far as Grell was concerned, how could anyone—he—not love this beautiful creature?

That question was written all over Grell’s enraptured face, a look of longing that anyone else would have appreciated as the love of another.

But for Sebastian, it was just another face of somebody looking for love in the wrong place. Very wrong.

“Do not look at me like that.”

Grell then nearly doubled-over, inadvertently hitting his forehead against the door. As punishment for living in fantasy Sebastian’s stray hand prevented the redhead from coming in reality. Not that Sebastian had been gentle to begin with, but this new torture went above and beyond what even Grell imagined the devil was capable. How wrong he had been.

The agonized shudders wracking Grell’s body so nearly drew Sebastian over the edge himself; one’s masochism and the other’s sadism combining to promise a dangerous, yet guaranteed phenomenal climax. To a demon, this was the perfect moment; dominance instead of servitude, and the satisfaction in knowing Sebastian had a shinigami—a godly species—quite literally in his grasp. There was no sympathy. Grell’s ego would heal. Eventually.

“For your sake, Grell,” the devil whispered throatily into his prey’s ear. “I strongly suggest you never insult me, mistaking this behaviour for ‘lovemaking’ or anything of the ludicrous sort again.” It was not about Ciel unearthing the truth—nobody took Grell’s blithering seriously, after all. No. What bothered Sebastian was Grell’s gross misconception of something completely outside the stratosphere of romance. So they fucked—what of it? Plenty of beings did the same without becoming emotionally attached. Fortunately for Sebastian, Grell seemed to enjoy learning his lessons the hard~ way. “This is not love, you bloody fool. Are we clear?”

Grell’s answer was only a muffled scream when Sebastian freed him, subsequently releasing himself a second afterward and filling Grell as quickly as he had been emptied. As though the butler had been his only support, Grell fell to his knees the moment Sebastian pulled out, leaving the crumpled reaper to ride out the rest of his orgasm alone. Aftereffects were still fresh with Sebastian, too, but having gotten what he wanted it was time to don the butler façade again and return to everyday life. The sun would rise soon enough.

“You are to take your clothes and leave before sunrise,” Sebastian spoke as though ordering one of his fellow servants. The last of his own clothing where it ought to be, the head Phantomhive manservant then proceeded towards his door, none too friendlily requesting his scarlet-haired obstacle to, “get out.”

Grell’s back still to the butler, he knew he only had himself to blame—visiting Phantomhive manor of his own accord, seducing Sebastian into more than the reaper bargained for, and worst of all dimwittedly believing everything would end happily ever after. This was not some faerie tale where all a pretty princess needed to do was wait in a tower for a prince to come and sweep her off her feet. Surely Grell was not that stupid.

And indeed, he was not.

Sebastian’s footsteps halted at the sound of the garter spat from Grell’s mouth, followed by low but noticeable giggles—not the gushy, girlish kind Grell often elicited in Sebastian’s presence. This laughter was deep, dark enough to unnerve Sebastian even by a fraction. Even in the shinigami’s current form—half-naked that not even his long red hair could conceal the white seed staining his porcelain arse—Grell unabashedly turned around and flashed a wide, demented smile.

“Nfu. You are an ice king if there ever was one, Sebas-chan~” he purred, as though the demon had not just had his way with him. “But this fiery queen doesn’t give up so easily. Hurt me, break me, take me—I encourage it! I may be a bloody fool but you’ll be even bloodier when I’m done with youuu~”

Dear gods, that moron did not know when to quit, especially when he had already lost. Or at least, that was what Sebastian thought. It went without saying that tonight’s tryst was a failure for Grell Sutcliff the romantic…but it was a colossal victory for Grell Sutcliff the lunatic. And as the madness that was he began to stalk ever closer, only vaguely did Sebastian wonder what the devil had really gotten himself into.

Seizing Sebastian’s necktie, Grell choke-tugged his quarry mere inches away from another kiss with Death. “For somebody who allegedly knows ‘nothing’ of love, you certainly are quick to condemn it. But of course, men fear what they do not understand.”

Sebastian almost laughed. “Are you actually insinuating that I fear you, Grell?” Preposterous.

“Aaah my love, you should be,” seductively warned the razor-toothed reaper, tightening his hold on Sebastian’s collar like a master taming a dog. In this game of domination, if Sebastian wanted the upper hand, he would only obtain it if Grell chose. And this was one hotheaded, wild, psychopathic woman who got what she wanted. Always. At its hottest, fire can only consume. “I’ll have you yet~”

If it was a fight Grell wanted, it was a fight he would most certainly get. Never in his long, long existence had Sebastian ever encountered such a person who was so strange, disturbing, oftentimes disgusting, obnoxious…yet also knew just how to spice up mundanity and keep a devil on his toes. Few beings could brave a demon, never mind intrigue him. And that which is strange can oftentimes be fascinating—and dare Sebastian think…attractive?—in its bizarre way.

The devilishly smirking Sebastian almost relished Grell’s challenge. “Don’t be cocky.”

The End


End file.
